Page 39 of The Purrfect Rival

The admission hung in the air between them. Hezron’s teasing expression softened into genuine concern.

“You’re certain? Mating bonds are?—”

“Permanent. Life-altering. Pride-changing.” Rust closed the folder before him with finality. “I know.”

“And you’re ready for the fallout? The lion elders will?—”

“They’ll adapt.” Rust’s voice gained the edge of authority that made even alphas from other prides straighten their spines. “Or they won’t. Their approval isn’t required.”

Hezron studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “For what it’s worth, I like her. She’s got fire. Makes you less... broody.”

“I don’t brood.”

“You’ve been brooding since 1867.”

Rust felt his lips twitch. “The security footage?”

“Right here.” Hezron produced a tablet from his jacket, handing it over. “But heads up—Boz arrived early. He’s cornered several elders already, whispering his poison.”

The momentary levity vanished. Rust’s expression hardened as he scanned through the footage showing Mira Woshen entering his office after hours.

“Get me hard copies of these,” Rust said, handing the tablet back to his beta. “And anything else on the woman.”

Rust gathered his materials, a dangerous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Let the games begin.”

THIRTY-FIVE

The council hall’s curved ceiling soared above the assembly, enchanted skylights filtering morning sun into beams that illuminated the circular chamber. Ancient tapestries depicting the nine founding clans lined the walls, their magical threads still vibrant after centuries: the golden lion, the crimson fox, the silver wolf, the bronze bear, the emerald dragon, the platinum fae, the obsidian tiger, and the midnight vampire.

Rust paused at the eastern archway, surveying the gathering. Conversations hushed as heads turned toward him. He absorbed their reactions: Boz’s narrowed eyes fixating on the fox-patterned tie, Lysander Foxworthy’s thin-lipped displeasure, Jinli’s approving nod from the lion elders’ section.

He strode toward his position with measured steps, his natural authority filling the space. As mayor and alpha, he wore both titles with the ease of someone born to lead. The carved chair at the head of the circle awaited him, its twin directly opposite—where Kalyna would sit.

Rust had just arranged his documents when the western archway filled with her presence. Kalyna entered with quiet grace, copper hair gleaming in the morning light, dressed in aforest-green dress that emphasized the curve of her waist. The sight of her sent a jolt through him more powerful than any magic.

Their eyes connected across the chamber, and the world seemed to pause. A spark—crimson and gold intertwined—flickered in the air between them, a visible manifestation of their connection that other council members couldn’t miss.

Elder Willow, seated near Kalyna, raised a silver eyebrow. The ancient witch’s knowing look shifted between them, missing nothing.

Kalyna’s lips curved into the briefest smile, her eyes warming to a shade closer to ruby than brown. The look sent heat coursing through Rust’s veins. The memory of her taste, the softness of her skin under his hands, the way she’d melted against him during their last embrace—all of it threatened his composure.

Get it together, Leonid. You’re the damn mayor.

He straightened, forcing his attention back to the matter at hand. “This council session is now in session,” he announced, his baritone voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber. “Our primary agenda concerns the theft of the Twinned-Tail Charm and the misappropriation of library renovation funds.”

Lysander Foxworthy, seated to Kalyna’s right, leaned forward. The fox elder’s silvered-red hair caught the light, his refined features arranged in a mask of cold politeness.

“Perhaps we should begin with why the mayor’s office failed to prevent either occurrence,” he suggested, his melodious voice carrying a subtle barb. “After all, security is a fundamental responsibility of leadership.”

Before Rust could respond, Kalyna straightened in her seat. “If I may, Elder Lysander,” she interjected, her voice respectful but firm. “Mayor Leonid has held office for less than a month. The security protocols in question were established under thepreviousadministration.”

Surprise rippled through the council at her defense of the lion mayor. Lysander’s eyes narrowed at his skulk member’s unexpected advocacy.

“While I appreciate Archivist Foxworthy’s perspective,” Rust said, stepping to the carved podium centered on the eastern arc, “security failures occurred under my administration’s watch. I acknowledge that responsibility.” His frank admission seemed to capture the council’s attention. “However, our investigation suggests a deliberate, coordinated effort by individuals with inside knowledge of both the library’s security protocols and the mayor’s office authorization codes.”

Fenris Stormclaw, the wolf elder, growled low in his throat. “Someone in your own administration, perhaps?”

Jinli Leonid rose smoothly from her seat among the lion elders, her golden mane of hair threaded with dignified silver framing a face that had presided over countless council sessions.

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